Tales from the Dojo
by Zadien
Summary: Chapter 7 Summary: Beyblade Uncharted AU (no spoilers for 4, based on 2). Tyson's a treasure hunter stuck in a city with a tank chasing him, and Hilary is an "on the ground" reporter who has had dealings with him in the past. Time for an awkward reunion!
1. Stay

Disclaimer: I don't own Beyblade. If you write them for twenty years though, do you get squatters rights?

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Stay

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Hilary had always appreciated the dojo. Even as a child walking past it on her way to school, she'd pause to look up at its high walls and enjoy the tranquility that seemed to perpetually surround it like an impenetrable bubble. Of course, once she'd met Tyson, she had never imagined she'd step foot inside the dojo unless it was for a school trip. He'd always been too boisterous, too rowdy and, to her mind, too lazy - the complete antithesis to her.

But things changed, she mused, as she stepped through the gates, her feet crunching over dried leaves as she tasted the ice in the air, her breath misting. She slipped her hands into the pocket of her warm, pink peacoat and wondered if the fog would lift and grace them with some sunshine later. Perhaps. Maybe she could take a book outside and do some note taking in the sunshine as she caught up with her class work.

However now she had another task.

As she walked towards the living quarters, a prickle began to form at the base of her neck. It was quiet. Too quiet. Almost as if no one was around, or worse, the occupant of the building was still asleep.

"Tyson," she growled under her breath.

Of course Tyson was still sleeping. Grandpa sure knew his grandson well.

She stomped across the porch and headed to Tyson's room. Catching the handles, she slid the doors apart and shook her head at the scene before her.

"Oh Tyson," she muttered, watching the lump nestled under a mound of blankets, in deference to the gathering chill in the air outside - though the room itself felt rather toasty. Closing the door to preserve that heat, she toed off her shoes and folded her jacket and placed them side by side, with her handbag, in the corner of the room.

Her footsteps were admirably silent as she crossed the floor and she was about to scare the daylights out of the sleeping male when a hand snuck out from the sheets, caught her arm, and she was suddenly off her feet and on the bed.

For a long moment she blinked at the ceiling, as her brain struggled to comprehend what had just happened. Then she growled.

"Tyson!"

Shifting on her side, she opened her mouth to shout at him only to receive a faceful of blankets. Spitting them out and shoving them down, she scowled at the back of Tyson's head. "What are you doing? You have practice to take."

Tyson's hand lifted in a dismissive gesture and he mumbled something about two hours before he settled down to sleep again.

"Tyson, you need to set up the space and -"

He rolled over and clamped a warm, rough palm over her mouth. Her lips burned.

"Sssh, Hilary. Sleep."

Ignoring the heat rolling beneath her skin, she groaned and flopped onto her back, removing his hand. Ridiculous. She could never get a conversation out of Tyson this early in the morning. Grandpa shouldn't have left her in charge of making sure Tyson was ready for his classes. He'd get them done but he'd be late, and nothing would be ready and this was just typical Tyson. How Grandpa thought she'd get through to him, she'd never understand. Kai… no. Not even Kai could tear Tyson from his bed, unless a beyblade battle was mentioned. If she challenged Tyson to one, he'd probably fall out of bed laughing - which would achieve her goal, she supposed.

"You're not sleeping."

She glanced over at him. "No. I'm awake. I've been awake for a some time now, Tyson. Even walked outside."

"You're due a nap. Sleep."

She could just barely make out his words as he mumbled into his pillow, eyes still closed, hair tied back from his face, bangs falling to the side. His face was crumpled with sleep and he looked ridiculously adorable. Her fingers twitched and she curled them into fists.

She sighed and rolled to face him. "Tyson you need to get up."

"One hour."

"Fine. One hour. I'll go make breakfast or something." She heaved herself up, feeling like she'd won a minor victory. One hour of a lie in was much better than two; it, at least, gave him time to eat breakfast and clear up the training room.

His arm flopped over her waist and startled, her heart thumping, she glanced over her shoulder. "Tyson?"

One brown eye opened to blearily regard her. "Just stay, okay?"

She nodded carefully, then settled back down into the bed. Catching an extra hour of sleep probably wasn't a bad idea, given how early she'd awoken. Rolling onto her side away from Tyson, she closed her eyes and prepared to drift off, smiling softly when Tyson mumbled something and tugged the covers up over both of them.

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**A.N. **This is pretty terrible but I'm so out of practice writing wise so I wanted to just do something and I have always wanted to play with Tyson and Hilary.


	2. Friends

Friends

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There was a fly on her cheek but every time Hilary tried to swat it, her arm refused to budge. She couldn't see it, could only hear it buzzing before it would drop its weight upon her cheek. She groaned and slowly became aware that she was sleeping. If she could force herself awake, the fly would be gone. She just had to wake up.

It landed again and she snapped her eyes open.

For a moment, her brain sluggishly moved between dream and reality as she blinked against the light beaming against the white wall in front of her. White wall? She'd painted her walls shades of blue, bright, intense and yet tranquil.

Something hit her cheek but now she knew it wasn't a fly — it felt like a finger poking her cheek. She tried to lift her arm only to realise it was weighed down by a tangle of blankets.

"Ah, sleeping beauty awakens."

Max? She rolled over and blinked up at the blond boy sitting on… Right, she was in Tyson's room… in Tyson's _bed_ and Max was there. "Oh. This is not what it looks like." She squeezed her eyes shut against the cliched phrase and tossed an arm over her eyes.

Now she remembered. She came over to wake Tyson but he'd wanted to sleep on and so they'd both taken a nap. Tyson didn't set an alarm. Oh god. "Where's Tyson? What time is it?" Her voice was groggy with disuse.

Max chuckled. "Relax Hilary, Tyson's taking his grandfather's kendo class. I just came over to return that DVD I borrowed from him."

"But I was supposed to make breakfast and… " She sat up, throwing off the blankets, and rolled her neck, expecting it to crick because she'd been sleeping in an unfamiliar bed, but her neck felt fine and Tyson's bed had been very comfortable, no wonder he was so reluctant to leave it. And yet, he had without her prodding. "He's really taking the class?"

"Yep," Max told her cheerfully as he rolled off the bed and stood up, stretching. "He told me not to wake you but I know you hate sleeping the day away. How're classes going?"

"Good." Following his lead, Hilary got out of bed and carefully remade the bedding before frowning down at herself. Her skirt was wrinkled and she really needed a mirror to check her hair. A quick pat told her that at least one section was flat when it should be flicked and another was flicked where it should be flat. This was all Tyson's fault.

"So," Max said, as she pulled a comb from her handbag, "you were sleeping in Tyson's bed."

"Max," she warned, putting the comb away. She folded her arms and braced her legs— her no nonsense pose.

She was not going to be led into this conversation. She'd done nothing wrong. She had simply napped in her friend's bed and yes, he happened to be a boy and no, napping beside Max or Kenny in their beds would never happen — definitely not with Rei because Mariah would skin her, and not Kai either because, Kai.

So what was it about Tyson that did this to her? She needed to move past this _thing _with him. Of course, if he stopped being so Tyson all the time, she could move on. Why couldn't he go back to that obnoxious boy who wasn't serious about anything and drove her nuts? Now he was this confident, sometimes bordering on arrogant, young man with this intensity that drove him towards victory and a belief in everyone that drove her nuts (and appealed to her so completely). Except he was still the Tyson she knew from back when, she just knew the different facets of him now.

Max hummed under his breath and sent her a sly smile but she refused to rise to his bait. There were times that Hilary found herself wondering if Max's cheerful demeanour was a mask for a demonic soul. He sure seemed to take pleasure out of her embarrassment.

She stalked past him, intent on making sure the dojo was intact, and then she'd go home to examine her reactions to Tyson Granger. Again.

"Aw Hils, don't worry so much," Max said, draping his arm around her shoulder and giving her a comforting squeeze. "I won't tell the others. What you and Tyson do in his bed shall remain between the three of us."

"We had a nap. It was just sleeping."

"Sure." He nodded. "And if it ever comes up, that's what I'll tell the others."

"Max." She ground her teeth and sucked in a deep breath, releasing it slowly.

He chuckled and held the door for her just as Tyson came along the porch, hands linked behind his head as he whistled a jaunty tune. Her heart stuttered in her chest and she rubbed the spot, irritated with herself. He actually looked like a trainer, dressed in his navy kendogi rather than the casual wear he sported when he was teaching the local kids how to blade.

His face brightened at the sight of them.

"Hey guys! You're not gone yet Maxie? I thought you had a shift at the hobby shop."

"Oh yeah." Max checked his watch. "Oh crud, I gotta run. I wanted to sneak in a quick call to Mom and remind her that I have holidays coming up and I want to either book Dad and I a flight to America or get her to come here." He wrinkled his nose. "Probably better to convince her to come here. Dad will take time off from work, but Mom's a workaholic, if she's anywhere near her office, her people will constantly be calling her to verify things for them. If she's out of the country, she can't do that and she'll not answer her phone. Hey, thanks Tyson!"

As he ran off, Hilary tilted her head at Tyson, trying to ignore how adult he looked in the kendogi, with the sleeves rolled up showing toned forearms peppered with dark hairs. "Why did he thank you?"

"Well," Tyson counted out on his fingers, "I reminded him he has to go to work and two, I helped him make a decision on how to spend his holidays. I'm a really good friend in that way."

Yes, still arrogant. "I think Max sorted that out on his own."

Tyson rubbed his thumb over his upper lip and shook his head. "But I still prompted him to think about it. Face it, Hilary, I'm an awesome friend."

Oh, she knew that. The boy befriended everyone and everything he came across. Which was why it bothered her that he had seemed so reluctant to befriend her. It was as if she'd been some kind of contagious disease that he had been terrified of contracting. Except, she reminded herself, she was not going to analyse what Tyson may or may not feel about her. They were friends now and that's what mattered. Friends who now apparently sle — _napped_ together.

"So why didn't you wake me this morning?"

Tyson reached up to massage the back of his neck as he gave a jerky shrug. "Well you were in a deep sleep and you must have been up early to trek the whole way over here, so I thought I'd let you sleep on. Besides, what were you going to do while I practiced?"

"I guess I would have gone home and worked on that assignment for next Friday." Since she'd gone to an archery tournament with her after-school club, she had fallen two days behind in her academic schedule.

A groan spilled from his lips as his head fell back against the wall. "Ugh, Hilary! It's the weekend. You're not supposed to do work during the weekend. It's time for fun."

"I do fun things during the holidays. I travel the world and I watch sports." Basically she followed the Bladebreakers.

"You babysit Daichi and exhaust yourself taking care of me, Kenny and the others. That's not fun Hilary, that's a job. You're our manager so it's not a holiday when you're with us." With an exasperated sigh, he grabbed her wrist and she stumbled forward. "Come on."

She slipped out of his grasp, fingers buzzing with the phantom warmth and callouses of his hand. "Hold on. Tyson, I have to put my shoes on."

"Well go do that and then we're going to go eat."

Eat? He was taking her for food? Was Tyson really this much of a blind idiot? If anyone saw them eating lunch together they'd call it a date!

She blew her hair out of her face and tugged on her shoes because even knowing that, she couldn't help the fluttering in her stomach at the idea of spending some time with Tyson without the others around. It was rare; it was golden.

Still… "Don't you think it'll be weird the two of us going to eat together?"

Tyson rolled his eyes. "We're friends Hilary. It's no different that when we share your bento at school."

"It is different. You steal food from my bento, Max is often there and Kenny is usually there as well." Half the time Daichi showed up too despite being in a different school.

"Well we'll go to Kenny's place and eat. You haven't eaten since this morning. You need food and I don't have anything in the house. So let's go."

When he held out his hand, Hilary carefully took it. There was definitely something else going on with Tyson, but he'd either tell her later or the weirdness would fade. Maybe their friendship was just changing, deepening, or maybe…

No, Hilary, no. Just no.

She wasn't going to get her hopes up. Not yet anyway. Not without some more evidence. She'd email Mariah after she got home, just for a second opinion.

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**A.N. **So I started posting these on my Tumblr, which is where I tend to post drabbles and outtakes from my fanfiction and people seemed to really like them, so I'm posting them here too. And then Umayorokobi did a LiveStream on Sunday and she did a beautiful **fancomic** of the 'Stay' moment from chapter one and it's beautiful and you should all go look, the link is in my profile. Seriously, I don't think I've ever been so honoured. I've never had a fanart of a scene before. So yeah, it was seriously awesome. I hope to write some more for these two this weekend when I have some free time and don't have to do course work.

Anyway I hope you enjoy!


	3. Kenny's Birthday Plans

**A.N****.** Thank you VampiricRosia for your review!

**Summary: **Tyson needs help planning Kenny's birthday, so of course he asks Hilary for help.

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Kenny's Birthday Plans

Hilary walked down the corridor on her way to her afterschool club when a door slid open to her right and she was yanked into a small, dark closet. She stifled a scream and uncurled her fist because, though it was dark, she knew exactly who would pull such a stupid stunt.

"Tyson Granger, what are you playing at?"

There was fumbling, then a curse, and suddenly light blinded her. She cringed and recovered enough to glower at the boy who was sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck.

"Heh, sorry about that Hilary."

She glanced around the janitor's closet and shook her head. He was going to start rumours with his rash actions and she would have to put up with the snickers and the sly looks while Tyson remained oblivious to it all. Delightful.

"What are you doing?"

"I needed privacy." She continued to wait for a satisfying answer, which came after he sighed loudly and dropped his backside onto an upturned bucket. "Well, I needed to find somewhere that we could talk where Kenny won't find us."

Leaning back against the shelves, trying to find a comfortable spot, Hilary ran a hand over her hair. "We're hiding from Kenny now?"

"Just for this conversation. It's his birthday soon and I want to do something big for it, well not too big because Kenny gets shy about things but just to show him we appreciate him, you know? He does all this amazing stuff for us during tournaments and most of the time I kind of get caught up in the moment and forget to thank him, so I just want to show him that we do notice."

Smiling softly, Hilary nodded. "I think that's a very nice idea, Tyson. But why do you need me?"

A frown puckered his brow. "Well I'm hardly going to ask Daichi for help. He can do some errands, sure, but if I want this to be successful, I'm going to need your help."

"Okay, well what did you plan to do?"

He pursed his lips and steepled his fingers before them, resting his elbows on his knees. "We need a venue but if we host it at his home, he'll notice something is happening. If I could guarantee he wouldn't show up at the dojo, we could hold it there."

"So you're thinking a party?"

"Just a small one, a private one with some friends from school and the team, of course, I've emailed Kai and Rei, and both say they'll come and Rei says that Kevin and Mariah want to come too. And I said to Max and he's definitely going to back by then."

She nodded. Max was away on an impromptu trip with his parents to celebrate his father's birthday. "That's great. Everyone will be here."

"Yeah, so I need help planning a venue where we can have a small party and Kenny won't feel overwhelmed, you know? And Hitoshi says he wants to come."

"Oh. Okay." Hilary wasn't sure what to make of Hitoshi anymore. He was Tyson's older brother and he'd been quite a coach but his actions during the BEGA tournament made her wary of him. Despite his claims of helping Tyson, he had put them all in a lot of jeopardy and Tyson's win was the only reason the outcome had been less severe. She couldn't imagine Kai being too comfortable in the older man's presence. She certainly didn't want to explain to a manager why she was digging a beyblade out of the wall.

"So when is Kenny's birthday?"

Tyson's smile faltered and turned a little toothy, a clear indication she wasn't going to like his answer.

"Next week."

"Tyson! How are you going to organise a birthday party with such short notice?"

"We just need a cake and everyone's already invited and coming."

"We need a venue too. One that's beyblade friendly." And honestly, she couldn't imagine many places in town being too eager to host a birthday party for the best friend of World Champion, not without it turning into a circus. "We need this to be private. Otherwise you'll be mugged by fans and Kenny needs to be centre of attention here."

Tyson nodded, getting to his feet with a stretch that lifted the edge of his shirt - exposing a sliver of tanned, firm skin; Hilary averted her gaze. "You're right. See this is why I came to you. You think about the details. I just see the big picture."

Ignoring the flush heating her skin, she clasped her hands and began to think. "Well, maybe we could tell Kenny that the Dojo is out of bounds for the next week? Could your grandpa have a competition coming up or bugs?"

"Bugs?"

"Sure. Say you have an infestation of bugs and need to get the place fumigated. It probably could do with a good airing out. Did you even wash that pile of socks from last week?"

Tyson scratched his cheek thoughtfully. "I think so. No, I definitely did. Max and I were playing karate kid... " He trailed off and ducked his head.

Every time she thought that he was changing, maturing, he did something to remind her that he was still Tyson underneath. That was comforting. "Okay, so we'll use the Dojo as a venue and for this week, if we're meeting up for practice or just in general, we find some place else. Like the river, or the park, or even my apartment, if you promise not to launch any of your blades inside."

"Promise."

"Good. What about food? I imagine his parents will want to contribute that." Tyson nodded. She'd compose a list just in case. "What about presents? And music?"

"Oh!" He dug out his phone and passed it to her.

Taking it, she unlocked it, and scanned the message on screen: **Hi Tyson! Great to hear from you. Of course I've got some stuff for such a loyal fan. I'll sign it immediately and express post it to you. Wish Kenny a happy Birthday from me. Lots of hugs and kisses, Ming-Ming. xxxx oooo xxxx oooo**

"Did she really need to put that many x's and o's?"

"Heh, she's kind of a nice kid. I know Kenny's a big fan so I thought I'd see if she had some stuff for him."

Touched, she returned his phone. "That's a really nice idea Tyson, and yes, it's kind of Ming-Ming too. I guess everyone's changed now."

"Yeah." He studied her a long moment, until her skin began to buzz and her heart rate accelerated, then he cleared his throat. "Well, I also got a voucher for that computer shop that Kenny likes so much."

She blinked. That was really organised. "Wow, Tyson, you don't need me at all."

"Of course I do." The words were quick and snapped out, almost as if she'd insulted him when she was trying to give him a compliment.

Scowling, she folded her arms and shifted her back against the shelves digging into her spine. "Hmm, I don't know what I should get him. He always seems to have more than enough beyblade parts and I don't know much about them to get him any. I'm sure Max's got him a voucher for the hobby shop, so there goes that idea."

"I noticed that his tool box is looking a little worn. If you want, I could go with you to the hobby shop and help you pick out a new one for him. He'll not notice until everything spills out because he's too busy spending money on fixing up our blades."

Hilary rolled her eyes. Tyson always inferred that Kenny spent his own money on parts, but the reality was that they all put money into the kitty for parts; Kenny was the one who went to shop and bought them.

"You don't have to take me, I'm sure the person in the shop can help or you could ask Kai at the weekend, it's -"

Silly boy, didn't he know she'd rather spend time with him. "I'd really like it if you helped me pick out a new box for him, Tyson."

"Yeah. I mean sure. We could go now, unless you have archery practice?" He looked so adorably awkward, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his school trousers, sleeves rolled up and hair shoved flat under his backwards cap, biting on his lower lip as if half expecting her to say no.

"I have time now."

His smile was like sunshine, warming her from the inside out, and he motioned for her to lead the way out of the closet. Ducking her head out, she peered up and down the corridor, shivering as she felt him behind her, as he turned out the light. His breath ghosted over her ear as he peeked and then they slipped out into the corridor, lit up by the evening sunlight spearing through the trees.

Bumping shoulders, they walked down the corridor as Tyson eagerly told her the tale of how he fell asleep in European History class, laughing loudly when she groaned his name and punched his arm.

Yeah, there really was no one else she'd rather spend time with.

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**A.N. **Hope you enjoyed and rememberreviews are important. They feed our writer souls.


	4. Parenting

**Summary**: Hilary wakes to find Tyson watching over their son and Hilary realises that while Tyson and Kai might not be rivals in beyblade anymore, they've found something new to compete over.

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Parenting

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Hilary woke with a start and, for a moment, lay in the tranquil dark wondering why she was awake. The clock on the bedside cabinet beamed red on the ceiling, 03:09. Her brow puckered. Far too early to be awake. She groaned and rolled over, then froze. Where was Tyson?

She sat up and looked around the room, lit up by the milky light of the moon that chased the shadows to the walls, keeping them pressed there, dark and solid. Nothing moved, the room remained the same as when she fell asleep. Tyson's clothes were in a pile in the corner where he'd thrown them after changing for bed — he'd been snoring softly when she'd arrived.

Throwing off her covers, she grabbed for her robe and slipped it on, her bare feet making hardly a sound on the cool wooden floor. The dojo creaked and groaned as it settled, and the air was comfortably mild — Hilary liked to think it was just the protective aura of the building, nurtured and cared for by Grandpa Granger and now by Tyson and maybe someday...

She paused by the ajar door and an affectionate smile tugged at her lips even as she shook her head and eased the door open enough to step inside. Of course he'd be here.

"Tyson," she whispered, moving closer to him, tucking her slightly longer than shoulder length brown hair behind her ear.

He stood silently over the small cot, brown eyes soft and adoring though his fingers gripping the bars tightly.

"What are you doing?" she questioned, sliding her arms around him and resting her cheek against the heat and strength of his back. Her best friend, her partner, her husband, her everything. Not for the first time she realised that she was a blessed woman. Though if she'd told her thirteen year old self that one day she'd marry Tyson Granger, she'd have been understandably dubious, if not a little intrigued. Even at thirteen years old, there was a strange undeniable attraction to Tyson — there must have been something to explain why he got so deeply under her skin — and now that she was a grown married woman, she was allowed to romanticise it a little.

"I just check on him from time to time. Just so if he wakes up, he'll not be alone."

Kissing his back, just between his shoulder blades, she peered around him into the cot where their son rested on his back, tiny - oh so adorable - fist pressed to his mouth. "I think you're more concerned about him being in a room on his own, than he is."

"He's growing so fast. He's already got five teeth. That's more than Rin and Gou put together."

Smiling at the fond exasperation, she reached down to stroke a finger over the velvet softness of her son's hot cheek. He smacked his lips and a little frown appeared before he lost himself in dreams again. Little Makoto Granger was six months old going on four, racing through the mile stones most babies took their time with. If he rushing out of the starting gate already, she knew the next eighteen years were going to be interesting at least.

"He takes after you," she mused.

"Or you," Tyson retorted softly with a laugh, his fingers lacing with hers over the firm plain of his abdomen, "the consummate overachiever. I swear today he was trying to take his first step."

She chuckled and nuzzled his shoulder. "We'll have to get him a beyblade soon."

"He'll be a world champ before Kai's son even learns to walk." He grinned, pressing a kiss to her hair. "We made a good looking baby, Hilary."

That they did: a tiny little prodigy of a child with a beatific smile that charmed everyone he met. Each and every day he did something new that stunned her and melted her heart and it killed her that sometimes work required her to leave him for a few hours a day. It was always during those hours that he would do something different as if waiting for his mother to be out of the room to become adventurous. At least Tyson always made an effort to record Makoto's little feats of interest so that she could experience them second hand. And, of course, she did the same whenever Tyson had to teach a class at the dojo or whenever he was taking a beyblade class. They had a partnership, one that worked better than she'd ever expected.

"You know," Tyson began, voice dropping low, finger stroking over the centre of her palm creating little tingles of pleasure, "now that we're both awake maybe we should find something to pass the time until Makoto wakes for his next feed."

Biting her lip, Hilary glanced up at Tyson, brown eyes laughing into his. "It just so happens that I have something to show you."

"Oh?" A navy brow lifted.

With a smirk, Hilary tugged his hand leading him towards the hall, careful to allow the hall light into the room so that Makoto wouldn't be left entirely in the dark. Tyson's body bumped into hers and she barely suppressed a giggle as she spun in to him, arms looping around his neck. His lips brushed her throat, teeth grazing, and she sighed, arching into him. His hands slid under her robe, hot and firm, as her fingers traced circles over the nape of his neck.

"Mmm, that's a nice idea, Tyson, but I wanted to show you something else."

His hum of disagreement vibrated over her skin and she curled her fingers into his hair, lifting his face so she could meet his eyes. "You'll want to see this."

He exhaled loudly and his busy hands dropped from under her robe. "Okay, what is it?"

Linking her fingers with his, she drew him to the kitchen, turning on the lamp so it sent a wash of golden light through the room, and over to the table, ignoring the way his free hand tried to settle on her hips. Finding the bag where she left it, she presented it with a flourish to her husband, enjoying the way his expression lit up — she could almost guess where his mind had gone.

"Uh, Hilary, what is this?" Tyson asked, pulling out a small red and blue cap and an equally small yellow t-shirt and red jacket.

Entertained by the way he held the clothes between his fingers, she leaned back against the table and folded her arms. "Don't you recognise them?"

"Did you shrink them?"

Did she... "No, you idiot." Taking them from him, she held them up so he could see them properly.

Tyson rubbed his eyes. "Hilary, I know you've lost weight but they're not going to fit you. Your head won't even fit in the cap."

"Tyson!" Her tone was sharp before she forced herself to calm down. He was sleep deprived. He was a doting father who got out of bed to check on his baby son, so of course his brain wasn't working properly. "It's a baby costume."

"Of what?"

"Of you." Exasperated, she put the clothes aside and rose up to place her hands on his cheeks, maybe in some way she could pass a few brain cells to her loving husband via osmosis. "When you were at the height of your success, Grandpa Granger and Mr Tate came up with this idea of doing a set of Bladebreaker costumes for cosplays and Halloween. Of course Halloween wasn't very popular at the time, and cosplaying a sports star seemed weird, so the idea never really took off but apparently Mr Tate kept a few of them and Max came across this one in Makoto's size this afternoon. That's why I was late getting home, I had to call around to his to collect it. I was thinking Makoto could wear it for the Halloween party we're hosting for your blading group."

Tyson's lips curved and he scratched his nose. "Heh, he'd be even more like a world champion then." Aw she knew he'd like it. "We have to take photos to show Kai."

She dropped her hands and stepped back. "Really Tyson?!"

"He started it. He says his son is better than ours."

"That's clearly not true. Our son is amazing."

"And that Gou will destroy Makoto at Beyblade," he said, muffling a yawn.

She scowled. "Well, that's assuming that Gou actually wants to blade when he's older, which is a very long time from now." She didn't even bother mentioning Makoto, since she knew how deep in denial Tyson was about whether his son would be interested in blading or not.

"If Gou walks before Makoto, Kai's going to gloat."

She pressed her fingers to his lips. "You two are not going to put pressure on your sons. You keep your rivalry to yourselves, okay?"

Tyson nodded and put his arms around her, pressing his thumbs into the dimples at the base of her back so that she squirmed into him. He kissed her lips lightly. "You're a wise woman, Mrs Granger."

"Well, someone has to be."

"And it doesn't matter what happens with Makoto and Gou or if Kai beats me in the beydish because I'll always still be the luckiest man to have you and Makoto and five amazing life long friends."

She smiled up at him and pressed her lips softly to his before drawing back. "And now I know you're sleep deprived because you're getting sappy."

He dropped his head to nuzzle her neck and she sank her fingers into his hair, tugging on the strands gently. "You should go to bed, Tyson; I'll be up to feed Makoto when he wakes." Which wouldn't be long now, judging from the time shown on the small decorative clock on the counter.

"But sex," Tyson whined, nipping at the vulnerable skin at her neck in a way that had her knees curling and her skin shivering.

She flushed and buried her face in his shoulder. "Tyson, you're tired."

He drew back, eyes narrowed and a pout on his lips. "Is that a challenge?"

She slid her fingers along the waistband of his pants and tilted her head. "Is it a challenge you think you can meet?"

His hand clamped over his mouth as he yawned so hard his jaw cracked and belligerent eyes met hers. "You win. This sucks. Kai better be jealous of the costume because it just cost me sex."

As Tyson stomped off — and she knew he'd be face down on the bed, dead to the world in a little under five minutes — Hilary stepped back to cool off and put the costume away. And she patted herself on the back for being smart enough not to mention that she'd posted Kai and Rei costumes of themselves for Gou and Rin to wear (she particularly wanted to see what baby Rin would look like dressed as Rei). Tyson could find out about that later, when he wasn't quite so annoyed.

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**A.N. **You guys were absolutely amazing with the reviews! I was gobsmacked and touched and thank you all so much. They just make all the hours sitting in front of the computer and getting a sore back worthwhile! My little writers soul was well fed!


	5. As you wish

AU! Hilary's at uni and has been too busy with upcoming exams to return home. Tyson goes to surprise her and gets a shock himself.

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**As you wish**

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Tyson blew out a breath, ran his free hand down his jeans and cupping that hand in front of his mouth, checked that his breath was fine. Minty fresh. Should be. He'd all but inhaled a tin of mints on the bus over to the campus where his girlfriend resided.

He held his hand up to knock and froze. What if she was busy? What if she didn't want him interrupting? She'd told him that she had exams approaching and that's why she couldn't come back these past three weekends and he understood that. He did. But he'd wanted to see her, surprise her and maybe, somehow, help her relax. That was his intention, but now he wondered if he'd made the wrong decision. She might be out at the library or sleeping.

He should have called first. Even if it spoiled the surprise, at least he would have known if he was welcome.

He dropped his hand, prepared to leave.

"Suck my dick!"

Tyson froze at the undeniably male voice from the other side of the door. His heart thundered in his chest and a cold sweat broke out along his back. Who the hell was that? And what was he doing in Hilary's room?

His hand closed over the handle and he was pushing through the door before his mind contemplated what he was doing. The scene before him brought him to a halt.

A short boy with a soul patch and a big nose stood at the bottom of the bed, gyrating and gesturing to his crotch to the disdain of a yawning girl. In between them was a pile of sheets and scattered highlighters. Oblivious to it all, Hilary sat on the burgundy bed spread, legs crossed indian style, brown wavy hair falling past her face, scribbling frantically in a spiral bound notebook.

The boy rounded on him, a scowl on his face. "Who the fuck are you?"

"Don't be rude," the girl said, nudging Hilary who looked up with a jerk.

Spotting Tyson, Hilary blinked a few times and then her face lit up, a smile spreading over her features. Letting out a squeal of joy, that instantly settled every bubbles of anxiety frothing in his gut, she lunged across the bed, oblivious to the disgruntled mutterings of her friends. And then his world was solely Hilary, his hands full of her - knocking down his bag of supplies -, every breath fragrant with her peach scented perfume, and her soft laughter in his ears. He sighed and melted into her, holding her closer as her arms wrapped around his neck tightly, her legs around his waist.

"Tyson, you're here."

He nuzzled her neck and breathed her in. Right. This was just right.

"Excuse us."

Slowly she slid to the ground, and tucking her hair behind her ear in a nervous gesture, she turned to her friends, but she kept her hand entwined in his. "Uh, Tyson, these are my friends; Ian, Amber, this is Tyson."

"Figured," Ian muttered.

Amber nodded. "Yeah, no need for Sherlock around here. I can't think of any other guy you'd greet that enthusiastically. Nice to know you're not made up, Tyson." With that said, she began to gather the pages on the bed. "Right, we're gonna head to the library, give you two some alone time, right Ian?"

"I fucking hate the library."

"Aye, well your roommate fucking hates me and my roommate will be asleep and won't let us study because she's half dead."

"We could stake her and then you wouldn't have to worry."

Hilary squeezed his hand as she rocked on the balls of her feet. "Well, if you two end up in jail, I'm going to be too busy to bail you out so choose someone else for your one phone call."

Tyson chuckled when her friends grumbled, on their way by, that they had no one else, and his girlfriend happily advised them not to murder. This was a side to Hilary he rarely saw, especially outside their very tight circle of childhood friends. Most people at school had seen has as uptight and she'd always feared people would dislike her on sight, but here she was with her own little niche of friends, independant of her relationship to him. It was nice. It was good. She was happy here and he needed to know that. He'd support her no matter where she chose to go with her life, but he worried about her. He didn't like the idea of her being lonely here. Now he knew she wasn't.

The door closed and Hilary turned back into him, cupping his face. "You're really here." Voice soft, her thumbs stroked over his cheeks as her soft gaze darted over him, as if trying to memorise how he looked. "How?"

"You were busy, I had the night off, so I gathered a few supplies and drove over."

Her eyes sharpened. "Supplies? Study supplies? Oh Tyson, gimme. Not that you being here yourself isn't the best thing ever, but where is my ice-cream?"

He chuckled and nudged her out of his way, grabbing the plastic bag from where it had fallen on the floor. "It might be a bit dented Hils," he said, taking off his cap and jacket and tossing them on the chair by the single desk in the room, ignoring her tsk of annoyance. "But I was a bit distracted by the guy shouting suck my dick."

"What?" Comprehension flooded her features as she reached into her bedside cabinet and withdrew two spoons. "Oh, Ian says that every time he gets a question right. I've become immune." She froze and her hand flew to her mouth just in time to stop the startled spurt of laughter. "Wait, that's what you heard when you arrived? What did you think? That I'd started some kind of university porn show?"

Throwing her head back, she began to laugh.

Groaning, he grabbed the spoons from her limp hands and took the ice cream tub to the bed where she'd collapsed in a fit of giggles. "No. Eat your ice cream, Hils. I brought your favourite movies too, in case you were studied out and needed to take a break."

She stuck her tongue out, seizing her prize and hugging it tight before leaning over to kiss his cheek, her lips like a hot brand against his cool skin. "Hey, I've been really good. I'm pacing myself, and I don't go to the library every night. But because you're here, I'm going to take the night off." She rolled over to grab her laptop - and he might have looked a little at how her leggings hugged her form - and then she set up the DVD he presented to her. "The Princess Bride? Tyson, you really know how to spoil a girl."

"I know how to spoil you, that's the important thing." It was nice to watch the way her face glowed when he told her those kinds of truths. Pulling her close, he kissed the top of her head, and rested his cheek against the silk of her hair as the movie began to play and a sick boy was visited by his grandfather.

"So how are classes going at the dojo? And how's everyone?" Hilary asked, prying off the lid and digging into her pistachio ice cream before offering it to him. It wasn't exactly Tyson's flavour of choice but it made her happy and she was going to taste of it anyway when he kissed her, so he wasn't going to turn away food. "Oh, mmm, god, Tala makes the best ice cream ever!"

Swallowing his own mouthful, he jerked a shoulder. "I sometimes wonder if I should be jealous of you and Ta-" He laughed as she elbowed him. "Pity you don't have a freezer so you could stock up on it." Just meant he'd have to visit her more often. "And as for classes, they've been good and everyone's well." It wasn't the same without her, though. "I've missed you Hils."

She pressed a cold kiss to his neck, then rubbed her nose against his jaw sending a shiver down his spine. He loved when she got affectionate with him. "Mmm, me too, Tyson. I've been feeling off all week and I know we've been talking through Skype and Facebook, but it's not the same. I've missed this. Can you stay?"

He nodded as on screen Westley went off to find his fortune, and caught her free hand in his, stroking his thumb over the length of her slim fingers. "Sure, Hils. And I've a tournament next weekend an hour from here, so I was thinking I could take you out for a meal after, then stay here for the weekend before heading back."

Hilary hummed softly in agreement. "We're not going to an all-you-can-eat place though. I want a proper restaurant. Oh, I can take you to that really nice one that recently opened. It looks really romantic."

"As you wish."

Hilary snorted and slapped halfheartedly at his stomach. "You're a dork, Tyson." She rested her cheek over his heart, setting aside the ice cream and smiling softly. "I love you too. I'm so pleased you're here."

* * *

**AN.** I'm sure there's something wrong with this but I just wanted to post something. I turn 30 this weekend, a big milestone that I'm not prepared for so instead, I took a break from writing Saving and SLTS, to write a little Ty/Hil stuff. Hopefully I'll find some prompts to keep myself writing this.


	6. First

This was posted on Tumblr quite a while ago, but I'm only getting around to posting it here now.

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First

The first time Hilary kissed Tyson, she left him wrecked in the middle of the park. Max, the only member of the team to witness the moment - he'd been sitting with Tyson when Hilary had grabbed Tyson mid fight - covered his smile as a dumbfounded Tyson staggered to the table, fingers brushing his lips.

For a long moment, they sat in silence as the sun swept down behind the trees, casting thickening shadows along the ground and lights began to glow around the grassy verge.

Tyson blinked back into focus and looked at Max; his mouth opened but no words escaped.

Max snorted into his drink and tried to adopt a serious expression but it was just too damn funny. Tyson was lost for words. His loud mouthed friend was literally kissed speechless.

"You alright, Tyson?"

Grabbing for a can with trembling fingers - he was quite literally shaking - Tyson gulped down his water and stared at the table for a long moment, composing his thoughts. "Did -" He coughed and tried again. "Did she… I mean…"

He reached over and grabbed Max's wrist, brown eyes narrow and serious. "That happened right? Hilary just…?"

Max grinned until his cheeks hurt."Kissed you mid fight? Yes."

"Okay," he breathed. "Okay. Right." His head bobbed.

Max couldn't wait to tell the other boys. It was just too funny. He really wished he'd taken a photo. They'd never believe him unless they saw Tyson's stunned expression for themselves.

Oh, of course.

He pulled out his phone and while Tyson was lost in his thoughts, he whipped it up, allowed the camera to focus and snapped the picture.

"Max!"

"For posterity," Max told him diplomatically, as he attached the picture to an email and quickly sent it to his teammates.

Tyson puffed out his cheeks and blew out a breath. "She did kiss me."

"She did."

"I can still taste her lip balm. I think it's apricot."

"TMI Tyson, my friend, TMI."

Tyson frowned and sipped his drink. "She'll probably pretend it didn't happen tomorrow."

"It's a possibility." Hilary was a girl and girls were hard to understand. "She probably will."

Inhaling deeply, Tyson set down his can as he stood, expression determined, the look he wore when facing a tough opponent. Max looked on, wondering what Tyson was planning in that brain of his.

Then, with a almost giddy smirk, Tyson rubbed his upper lip with his thumb. "Heh, maybe I should criticise some other films she likes!"

Oh dear. This was not going to end well. "Uh, Tyson maybe you shouldn't do this to-"

"Later Maxy, gotta go find Hilary!"

Max watched his friend scurry off and shook his head. Well, tomorrow would be interesting.

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**A.N.** So yeah, I was messing about on Tumblr when I realised I hadn't posted this here and hey, I'm in the mood to update things, first Saving, now this and I'm working slowly on getting SLTS up to scratch. It will always take longer. It's in the final stages and has more characters that have their own loose ends to tie off.


	7. Treasure

Just a quick thing I scribbled up because I honestly can't write for anything else of mine tonight and I needed to write something. Tyson/Hilary as per usual. Hope you enjoy! Also, Uncharted is fantastic. It's like Indiana Jones where the women aren't switched out every game and where everyone's a cliff leaping bad ass. Tyson is a 'treasure hunter' and Hilary is an 'on the ground reporter' and poor cameraman Kenny's just there.

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Treasure

The day went from bad to worse for Tyson. First, the treasure wasn't where it should have been, even though every document he'd found indicated it should be in the highest building in the middle of the city. But no. It was just another elaborate puzzle that prompted him to climb walls and leap distances and pull levers - all for a very small payoff.

Then came the tank.

Why did they always have a tank? Why didn't he have a tank?

God knows he could have used one. Or two. Instead, he was one lone treasure hunter gallivanting around a war stricken city looking for a mythical treasure his father had died trying to find.

He brushed down his khaki pants and scowled over his shoulder keeping his eyes peeled for more mercenaries. The cobbled streets were strewn with debris and pockmarked with cavernous potholes; the market stalls recently vacated under a spray of ill intended bullets and overturned by reckless hands. The crumbling brown buildings seemed to sway beneath the pewter gray sky as he strode down the narrow street. All in all, the city was a miserable place these days.

His gun was a heavy weight in his holster around his waist, a mere pistol he'd picked up as he'd run from the last batch of soldiers while his journal, carrying the most recent clue he'd dug up, burned a hole in the pocket of his shirt. At least if they killed him, he might have a chance of destroying it before they got to it.

The streets seemed to crowd in around him. And each movement made his pulse skitter, his hair raise. He was too exposed on the streets. Any vehicle he grabbed was a potential target for the tank - or tanks, he wasn't really sure if there was a definite number - casually rolling the city hunting him down.

He needed to get higher. At least find somewhere to grab his bearings, figure out the lay of the land so to speak. Except every wall looked ready to collapse and most roofs had been blasted out of commission.

Coincidence or strategic move? He couldn't tell.

He rounded the corner and pulled his gun at the movement to his left. He froze and his gun bobbled as his brain frantically tried to catch up with is eyes. Once it did, he sagged and lowered it with a disgusted sigh.

"Hilary?"

Hilary kept her gun on him a moment longer, then dropped it, her own disdain clear in the brace of her hips - in yet another one of her trim slacks - and the lift of her chin.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded, raking a hand through his navy hair as he scanned the small alcove, checking the roofs and windows of the dilapidated buildings surrounding them. Nothing so far.

"Oh excuse me? What am I doing here? What are you - no" She stopped herself, holding up a hand. "Let me guess. You're the reason this civil war took a scary turn for the worst, aren't you? I mean one minute it's just people shooting each other, calling for an end to the government regime and the next minute, there are trained mercs roaming the streets with RPGs, snipers and three _tanks_, Tyson! Of course, you're involved. Dammit." She spun a quick, aggravated circle and, after taking a deep breath, faced him again. "What is it this time? Conned another shmuck into funding one of your findings only to run off with the treasure?"

"No." He scowled. He didn't like to be reminded of how they met. It wasn't that he conned her or ran off with the treasure. He didn't even get any treasure and really, he gave her exactly what she'd wanted to see. The coffin. How was he to know it was empty? And she'd never mentioned anything about tagging along for the rest of the trip. Technically, he'd fulfilled the terms of their contract.

He glanced at the camera guy beside her and made a face. "Who is this guy?"

"That's Kenny. My camera guy. Because I'm actually here for a legitimate job."

"Reporting on the civil war? Hilary, that's dangerous. Surely there has to be a safer way than being on the ground."

"I'm an on the ground reporter. The clue is in the name. And what treasure have you discovered this time? Excalibur? The Stone of Destiny?"

He bristled at her scathing words - namely because she wasn't wrong per se, though also totally inaccurate. "No, those are all western European artifacts. They wouldn't be here. Look, this isn't the place or the time. You need to get out of here."

"Oh no." She tucked a strand of brown hair behind her ear and pointed a finger at him. "You need to get out of here. You're the one they're looking for -"

He spotted the red dot dancing over the blue fabric of her shirt and he moved without thinking, knocking her on the hard ground just as the shot ran out. Scrambling to his feet, he shouted at Kenny to run and grabbing Hilary by the crook of her arm, he shoved her in front of him.

They raced down the alleyway and around the corner where he saw a hole in a nearby shop - one with a roof on it. "In there!"

They ducked inside and dropped behind the counter, keeping out of sight as the truck emblazoned with the mercenaries' symbol rushed by. Tyson waited until he could no longer feel the vibrations of the wheels and then he waited a bit more, his breathing shallow and quick, his heart racing. Hilary shifted beside him, her shoulder pressing into him and were she any other woman, he might have thought she sought comfort from him but her sharp elbow to his side quickly dissuaded him from that notion.

She glowered at him, chestnut eyes sparking furiously. Shit, she was still beautiful when angry. "This is all your fault."

He grinned at her and winked. "Guess they're looking for both of us now."

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**A.N.** Let me know what you think! Also for the lovely anon who wanted to know if they could do fanart, I welcome ALL fanart. I just can't reply to anons and it took forever for me to get another Tyson/Hilary idea - I've been sneaking scenes for them into Saving and a bit into SLTS. I'm so sorry.


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